The Principle of a Philosopher by Eternal Fool 'Asley' - Chapter 14.1, Another Dancer on the Black Emperors’ Palms

What is the point of wealth and status if there’s nobody to share it with? Dual Cultivation explores the sensual side of the Cultivation world that is often filled with solitude!

Su Yang was sentenced to life in prison within the Eternal Retribution Cliff, where only the universe’s most violent and evil criminals dwell.

His crime?

He seduced the Moon God’s wife, kidnapped the Dragon King’s sister, and even touched the Heavenly Emperor’s beloved daughter.

He later meets a mysterious old man who would help him escape prison by reincarnating him.

In his new life, Su Yang swears to reunite with his lovers and hold them in his embrace once again, all the while finding new ones along the way.

~


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Dying and then meeting a giant God in the image of an Impostor from Among us in the afterlife was certainly something I didn't expect would happen.Getting reincarnated by it, was something I expected even less.And awakening in a world where heroes and villains run rampant, was certainly the cherry on top on this whole matter.But well, nothing I can do about it.

Qiao Zhao married a first-class noble son from the capital, but unfortunately for her, she wasn’t given a bridal chamber as a sign of her newly married life.

After their marriage, her husband went on an expedition, leaving her alone to take care of herself. After a long time apart, they finally saw each other again, but suddenly, she was shot dead by her husband on the city wall with an arrow.

When she opened her eyes after a while, she saw herself in the body of a kidnapped young girl riding a donkey, racking her brains to figure out how to get back to the capital.

- Description from Novelupdates

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”